Prize Fighters
by Behind Blue Eyes BBE
Summary: Re-write Season 4: The Initiative and Wolfram and Hart join forces to pit Spike and Buffy against one another in an underground demon fight club in Los Angeles.


_"Hel-lo, Hostile 17…" _

"_Alert control and Alpha team. We've tagged Hostile 17 with a tracer, and we're in pursuit." _

Spike staggered through the brush in an attempt to elude the pursuing commandos. The object that penetrated the leather of his duster remained embedded in his back as he continued forward. Despite his earlier graceful movements, his feet had become heavy as lead weights while he stumbled through the overgrowth.

Within moments, a weighted net fell upon him. His boots became intertwined in the mesh, bringing him to the ground with a heavy thud. Instantly, four commandos landed on top of him. Crackles of electrical pulses roared within Spike's ear, before multiple jolts surged throughout his body. In an instant, blackness consumed him.

"Alert Professor Walsh that Hostile 17 is contained and prepared for transport," Forrest instructed Graham with a firm authoritative tone. The remaining commandos retrieved an unconscious Hostile 17 from the ground. Once placed in the belly of a non-descriptive white van, Forrest and Graham entered. Once the van door closed, the truck drove into the night.

Voices outlined the perimeters of Spike's consciousness. Without giving any indication of his awakening state, he began familiarizing himself with his surroundings: he was lying on concrete floor, minimal lighting was visible through his barely closed lids, and a myriad of heavy stenches permeated his sensitive nose…demons, lots of them. Within moments two voices broke through the constant murmurs, off to his left.

"So what's up with these two? Who the _hell_ did these humans piss off to end up here? And what's up with his _hair_?" One squeaky voiced demon inquired.

"Did you jussst hatch yesssterday? He'sss a vampire!" Another voice hissed. The demon's voice resembled an angry snake.

"Sor…rey, heard of them. Just haven't seen one before! My clan usually avoids them. They smell foul, like a human! Nasty!" The first voice responded, revulsion lacing his words.

"Well, ssshe sssmellsss pretty good to me. I bet ssshe tassste even better! Too bad that ssshe'll be dead before we get to sssample her."

"How the hell did you two last anytime in the ring, never mind on the outside? That's a slayer!" A third voice bellowed from Spike's right side. Demon number three now stood to his left, next to the other two demons.

"What's a slayer?" Demon number one questioned.

"Neither of you heard of the Slayer?" Based on no response from either demon, Spike assumed that neither had a clue. His thoughts were correct, when demon number three continued, "One _little girl_ that is sent to battle all the evil upon the earth? Not ringing any bells? You two are pathetic! I hope that they pit you against her, before the vamp over there. Then you'll really see what a slayer is…when she's ripping your empty heads from your necks!" Demon three scoffed.

"What…like this?"

With a sickening crack, Spike decapitated demon number three's head with one violent twist. Demon number one, a reddish short-furred creature with large bugged eyes and two short, twisted horns upon his head stared in shock. His reptilian counterpart, a slender demon with greenish scales and a head of a snake hissed,

"Yesss…like that!"

Spike glared at the two demons with disdain. He pushed past them, to see the woman who was the center of their conversation. She remained unconscious upon the floor unaware of the events that had just transpired. A feral grin stretched across Spike's full lips from the tantalizing sight before him.

"Hello cutie…"

Before Spike could step forward toward the unconscious Slayer, the first demon spoke,

"I wouldn't pass over that red line, if I was you. You'll dust if you do. See that pretty bracelet you have?" Spike looked down briefly at the red line drawn upon the floor that surrounded her. Then his gaze moved to the silver bracelet with archaic writing encircling his wrist before returning his gaze to the demon.

"That's what keeps us in line. Those red lines are all over the place. Just make sure you don't cross them, and you'll be fine. Well, until…oh, by the way…ripping that asshole's head off, that was like so cool! I'm Forizonoriniz, Fozi for short. You don't know how annoying that guy was. He's been here for a while. He was due for his twenty-first match today…well until now. Too bad he doesn't disintegrate like vamps do when they die. I don't know how you're going to explain it to the guy with the ponytail. Well, good luck with that!"

Ending his rant with a mock salute, Fozi quickly walked to the other side of the enclosure. His reptilian counterpart immediately followed. Spike's eyes rolled at the incessant prattling demon's departure. His gaze then returned to the woman at his feet. Dozens of pairs of feet pounding upon concrete rang in his ears, rerouting his gaze.

Within moments, a dozen heavily armed men with cattle prods and several with cross bows entered from the far right. In the middle of the group stood a middle aged, heavyset man wearing an ill-fitting business suit.

"I see that you've made yourself welcome vamp. Well, you're lucky you have a date with an important woman, so I won't take that loss out on your hide."

With that, he turned to head back up the stairwell. With a casual wave of his jeweled hand, the guards sprang into action. They moved in sync, six surrounded Spike, while the remaining six kept weapons trained on the other demons in the enclosure. Despite being a master vamp, Spike admitted momentary defeat.

Resigned to his current situation, Spike moved toward the direction the guards motioned to. Under trained weapons he ascended a set of stairs, toward a back entrance. The guards proceeded to shackle Spike and put him in another van. After approximately twenty minutes they reached their destination. Despite the whirlwind of movements, being removed and forced forward, Spike noticed he was in an underground loading area. With a deep intake of unneeded breath he assumed he was in a major city, due to the smog that filled his lungs.

_"Maybe LA?"_ He pondered, as all six heavily armed guards silently herded him into a freight elevator. When it finally stopped its ascent, the door opened to the 13th floor. Spike was then ushered through several doors and now stood outside an ornate wooden entrance. Without any notification the door opened from the inside, into a spacious office.

With forceful shoves Spike was escorted to the chair placed in the middle of the room. Once seated, Spike noticed a sizeable oak desk, set further back. An attractive, polished woman leaned on its edge. She had wicked gleam in her eyes and mischievous smirk upon her full lips. The man from earlier stood off to the side, looking at Spike maliciously while he slowly sipped his drink.

"Welcome, Mr. Spike. Gentleman, I don't think our guest is planning to do anything unwise. On the contrary, I believe he will be very well behaved. Don't you agree, Mr. Spike?" Spike gaze remained upon the woman, while she addressed his entourage. Once she finished speaking, her gaze settled upon him trying to confirm her words.

"Yes, luv. I'll behave. Be a good boy, I will." Even though the woman fully recognized the sarcasm dripping from his words, she silently instructed the guards to release him with a slight nod.

Four guards continued to train their weapons upon Spike while two others removed his shackles. Once they were finished, they all left the room. Spike's gaze remained locked with the woman's, before she spoke,

"I hope that your trip here was pleasant?"

"Yeah, I will be writing to the Zagat's guide about the accommodations. Bloody brilliant they were," Spike responded with equal sarcasm that matched his earlier tone.

"Well, I apologize for any inconvenience to you Mr. Spike—"

"It's just Spike, luv. And you are?"

"Oh, I apologize for my rudeness. I'm Lilah Morgan, an attorney for Wolfram and Hart, and you have already met Mr. Darin MacNamara." With an extended hand, she motioned toward the other person in the room.

"Yeah, a bloody great host he is. Well, now that we've had our introductions, why am I here, Lilah?" Spike purred her name, in an attempt to use his charm to find out the reason for all of this.

"Straight to business, I like that about a man, well, vamp. You're here for one reason and one reason only, to kill a slayer." Spike's mind was set ablaze from her words, despite her candid tone. Regardless of his interest, he retained his stoic features.

"Been there, done that…twice. I enjoy the crunch, the rush. The two slayers who lives I took were during battles of life and death, which of course was theirs. The slayer you had trussed up in that basement was unconscious. The way she was would be like shooting fish in a bloody barrel. The excitement all but lost." Spike continued to appear uninterested in the conversation, while he mindlessly picked at his chipping nail polish, even though her intriguing words still raced through his mind.

"I'm aware of your achievements; the first slayer, Xin Rong, during the Boxer Rebellion in China, 1900. The second was Nikki Woods, New York 1977. The first, subsequent to a lengthy battle, you got the upper hand, and tore out her throat. Well, after she gave you a permanent scar upon your left brow. You proceeded to share her blood with your past paramour and sire, Drusilla. The second, Nikki, you snapped her neck, after a fierce battle which took place on the subway. You stripped her of her leather trench, which you now wear as a badge of honor."

The reference to Drusilla stung slightly, but Spike continued as if nothing was amiss. His gaze moved from his nails and fell upon her, his tone still mocking.

"Colored me impressed, luv, someone has been doing their homework. Gold stars for you. Yeah, on that note, where is my leather? Feel right naked without it." Upon hearing his words, Lilah began to eye him hungrily, picturing in her mind's eye the vamp before her being just that—naked.

Her gaze roamed over his slouched form, lingered upon the impressive swell encased within his jeans. After her leisurely perusal, her gaze finally met his.

"I take it you like what you see, can _smell_ it. Maybe if you get rid of the King of Bling over there, I can assist with that incessant niggling between those creamy thighs."

Once Spike's words ended his tongue snaked forward and curled against the front of his teeth. Lilah's gaze became immediately fixed on his tongue. Her mind was flooded with all the possibilities that could transpire with this impressive specimen before her. A loud throat clear echoed through the room, breaking Lilah's stare.

"Can we please get on with the reason why the vamp's here? And as a hint, it's not for a love connection," Darin spat out, while he approached her. Lilah acknowledged the man's interruption by huffing out her response, clearly showing her disappointment.

"If we must."

"Fine, take all the fun out of it, pops. What is the exact reason for me being here? Actually, first off, how did I get here? Where-ever here is?"

"Well, let me give you a brief overview. Wolfram and Hart have many business associates that require our _services_. That includes the government. Within the last months, a new governmental facility has opened within Sunnydale. This facility was opened to deal with the increasingly large numbers of HSTs…"

"HSTs?" Spike asked, looking for an explanation.

"Hostile sub-terrestrials. This increase of HSTs has activated a group called the Initiative—"

"Those are the bloody wankers that stuck this soddin' chip in my noggin! There the reason why I'm here!" Spike roared, his demon visage flashing forward. He stood quickly, violently knocking his chair backwards.

In mere moments, six guards stormed into the room, several armed with a tasers. With inhuman speed, Spike grabbed Lilah and placed her between him and the guards, the desk at their backs. Darin cowered behind a leather couch, which was far away from the current action.

Spike in full game face, snarled at the guards. His hand wrapped aggressively around Lilah's throat. Despite the situation, Lilah calmly told the guards all was under control and to leave. Regardless of their hesitation, they followed her request. Once the door closed, she continued her calm tone.

"Now, can we finish our discussion? I feel that once you've heard the terms that we will set forth, you will find this merger quite profitable for all of us."

Despite her position, an angered master vamp near her throat, Spike didn't sense from her any uncertainty or fear from the situation. Taking full advantage of this woman in his grasp, Spike grounded his erection against the swell of her ass, while running his raspy tongue along the column of her throat. Pure bliss caused Liliah's eyelids to flutter due to his pleasurable, tactile assault. Within an instant, he was gone. Seated back in his chair, Spike faced the flushed woman, a prominent smirk adorning his lips.

"Please, do continue." With a wave of Spike's hand he urged her continuation.

Upon hearing Spike's voice, Darin peered from behind his leather barricade. Once he deemed the situation to be under control, he proceeded to sit upon the couch. The ice within his drink rattled in the glass, due to the shaking of his hand.

Spike and Liliah completely ignored the clearly upset man. Spike was casually sprawled in his chair, while Lilah slowly brushed away invisible lint from her sleeves. Both appeared to be unaffected by the recent events. Then with a steady voice, she continued speaking,

"Where was I—"

"The Initiative, the bloody sods that created this shite storm that has been falling on my head since their little _operation_."

"Yes, well, the Initiative has successfully contained many species of demons and the like within their subterranean units. Some of the population, they have captured have been, for a lack of a better term, more suited for our purposes instead of theirs. Ultimately, with negotiations, each entity has found lucrative advancements."

"That's all well in good, but what does that have to do with me?" Spike's gaze narrowed, suspicion lacing his words.

"You have been on our radar since your little excursion to LA several months back, when you were on the search for the vampire's Holy Grail—"

"The Gem of Amara?"

"Exactly. When you arrived, you caused a slight upheaval with the locals. Especially with one resident vamp which our firm denotes as a high priority."

"So, I tortured my grandsire a little. He's still about, fighting the good fight, for soccer moms and kittens or some such. No harm, no foul I say."

"Well, that is true, except your little visit put you on our radar, along with him. Once we were informed of your recapture by the Initiative, Wolfram and Hart felt that you would be a nice addition to our venture." Spike's brow furrowed at her statement, which held in place during his response.

"What type of venture would that be?"

"A fight club, a demon fight club to be more precise. After many negotiations, we came to an agreement. It was decided your _skills_ are better suited here. It would be a waste to dissect a fine specimen like you. In addition, this opportunity offers you the freedom, where theirs does not. Well, unless you consider death a freedom."

"How pray tell does one go about winning their freedom?"

"Once you have won twenty-one matches. Then you are released, simple as that."

"It's never that simple, but let's just say it is, where does the Slayer fit into all this?"

"Each of you will be the others final battle, the twenty-first win. The Pièce de résistance! The battle of the decade! William the Bloody, Master Vampire, the Slayer of Slayers against his sworn enemy. The crowds will eat it up! Ten-thousand dollars for entry into the building that night, with an addition five-thousand fee for the main event—" Lilah's gaze became hazy, while she calculated the promise of substantial amounts of money within her head.

"I appreciate her death being lucrative to you, luv, but there is one slight problem…" Breaking from her faraway gaze, Liliah's eyes moved to study the vamp before her as she asked,

"Which is?"

"The soddin' chip they shoved in my noggin. I can kill demons, but humans are a no go. So sorry to rain on your monetary parade—" Spike's words were cut off mid way by Lilah's retort.

"_That_ is no longer a problem." A definitive nod followed her words.

"But…what? How is that no longer a problem? Even when I threaten a human, bolts of electricity surge…wait a minute. Earlier, when I used you as a human shield, there was no buzzin' in my noggin. Didn't think anything of it until now, so you mean—"

"The chip is deactivated, yes. Think of it as a little early reward for your wins. In addition, your accommodations will be better than your demon counterparts. We need you fit for winning. As a matter of fact—"

Lilah walked around her desk. Once she reached the phone she pressed a button and spoke into the speaker. A muffled "Yes?" came through the other end.

"Yes, please send in Spike's _advancement_. Thank you."

Spike looked at Lilah, with confusion filling his features. With a teasing smirk, she returned his gaze until the sound of two people entering broke their stare. Spike turned to witness a petite blonde being escorted into the room. A brawny man held both of her arms behind her back.

With a nod from Lilah, the man released her and took a position by the door. In the middle of the room the woman stood shaking. The heavy stench of her fear rolled off of her in waves. With a quaking voice she begged those before her.

"Please, I don't know what I'm doing here. I just want to go home…please…"

While she begged to whoever would listen, Spike's gaze fell upon Lilah. With a slight nod and tilt of her chin toward the girl, he rose from his seat. Slowly, he stalked forward. The combination of the heady scent of her fear wafting from her and the racing blood pounding within her veins filled his senses, making him ache.

Spike placed his hand upon her shoulders. As the woman's big green eyes stared at him, his face contorted to his vampire visage. With a scream she heralded his transformation. In an instant, Spike roared, roughly pulling her forward. His fangs instantly pierced the column of her throat. With greedy gulps, he devoured her life's essence. Spike's feasting was the only sound that was heard, until Liliah announced,

"Wonderful! We're all in agreement."


End file.
